


April Showers

by Tassana_Burrfoot



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 11:04:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13879536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tassana_Burrfoot/pseuds/Tassana_Burrfoot
Summary: April showers bring may flowersHermione takes shelter from a spring down-pour during a stroll in the Magical Public Gardens. Someone else is already in the overgrown pagoda."You've read Shakespeare's sonnets?"





	April Showers

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Elm_and_Vine_Heartstrings](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Elm_and_Vine_Heartstrings) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> April showers bring may flowers
> 
> Hermione takes shelter from a spring down-pour during a stroll in the Magical Public Gardens. Someone else is already in the overgrown pagoda.
> 
> "You've read Shakespeare's sonnets?"

A single drop of rain landed on her book. Glancing up, Hermione was a little surprised when a light Spring shower began coming down on and around her. Holding her book against her chest to keep it safe, she sprinted across the magical garden to the closest pagoda she could find. Once inside, she wiped her face and pushed her hair back.

Glancing around, she was surprised to see none other than Lucius Malfoy sitting on one of the benches, reading the latest edition of Seeker Weekly. He looked up when she entered the tower. She gave him a weak smile and nod. He returned her gesture with one of his own and returned to his reading.

Running a hand through her curls to try to get some of the water out of her hair, Hermione continued inside the building. She found a small window seat about two floors up in a rather deserted part of the pagoda. Sighing, she sat down and opened her book. It had been such a lovely day thus far. With it being her day off, Hermione had fancied a visit to the newly opened Magical Gardens. From what she had known of them, a mysterious donor had bought the small patch of land and transformed it into the marvel it was now. They then opened it up to the public, offering the magical community a proper place where they could go and enjoy the sun and grass in the open.

There were even small, harmless magical creatures that roamed through the gardens. One could often see parents with their children, feeding these creatures by the pond, or near the picnic tables that had been set up. 

Between the creatures, the quiet, and the gorgeous plant life, the garden had quickly become one of Hermione’s favorite retreats. It was the perfect place to go if you wanted some peace and quiet while you read. And she could truly enjoy the sun and soft animal sounds.

The pagoda was particularly silent this day, even with the few animals running about. Those children who currently weren’t in school were being gathered up by their parents in an effort to get them home and out of the rain.

“April showers bring May flowers,” she quietly mused to herself with a light smile as she gazed outside to watch the people hurrying out of the rain.

Hearing the tapping of a cane and the soft thump of booted feet approaching, Hermione glanced in the direction of the sound to see Lucius Malfoy walking her way. He wasn’t really paying much attention to her, his eyes seemingly transfixed on the blooming flowers along the walls. 

He pulled his glove off and touched one of the delicate blooms. Her eyes widened as he mumbled softly to himself, “How heavy do I journey on the way. When what I seek, my weary travel's end,  
Doth teach that ease and that repose to say, 'Thus far the miles are measured from thy friend!'”

“Beg pardon?” Hermione asked, assuming she had misheard him.

He glanced at her and pointed his cane at the book in her hands. “Is that not Shakespeare in your hands, Miss Granger?” he countered.

She nodded and frowned. “You’ve read Shakespeare’s sonnets?”

“Of course,” he said, looking at her curiously. “He was one of the most prolific wizards of his time.”

Hermione closed her eyes and held back a groan. Of course! But then, “I wasn’t aware he was a wizard.”

Lucius shrugged. “Of that, I have no doubt. His sonnets and dramas transcended the magical world long before he died.”

“Probably because he had meant for it to be that way,” she pointed out, snapping her book shut.

Lucius raised an eyebrow. “Yes, well, he was a Half-blood.”

She pressed a hand to her chest. “You mean to tell me, Shakespeare was a Half-blood and you know his sonnets?!” she snarked. “Color me surprised! Is this hypocrisy I see before me, Mr. Malfoy?”

Lucius’s eyes narrowed as he sat down on a bench across from her. His lip curled. “Severus Snape was a Half-blood,” he told her, “and, until he met his… unfortunate end, he was one of my good friends.”

She nodded. “Oh, yes, that’s right. It’s just Muggle-borns. You have no problem with Half-bloods so long as they share your views,” she commented. “But, if even Muggles know of Shakespeare, wouldn’t that make him a blood traitor?”

“You’re not amusing,” he drawled. “Have you read _Midsummer Night’s Dream_?”

“If we shadows have offended; Think but this, and all is mended; That you have but slumbered here;  
While these visions did appear,” she quoted without missing a beat.

He smirked, his eyes alight, though Hermione wasn’t sure why. “Lovers and madmen have such seething brains; Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend; More than cool reason ever comprehends,” he returned, his brow lifting in silent challenge.

Was he flirting with her? She frowned and tilted her head, studying him. “One sees more devils than vast hell can hold,” she commented, biting her bottom lip.

He laughed and she stared at him in wonder. She realized, in that moment, that she had never heard the man laugh before. It was… almost musical. Still smiling, he replied, “Things base and vile, holding no quantity; Love can transpose to form and dignity. Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind;  
And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.”

He _was_ flirting with her! Why was he flirting with her? Wrinkling her nose, she glanced out the window, looking longingly at the still pouring rain. If only it would stop… “Nor hath Love's mind of any judgment taste; Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste.” 

He chuckled again, a throaty sound that really was too on key to be legal in her mind. “And yet,to say the truth, reason and love keep little company together nowadays,” he commented.

She looked at him. “Why?” she asked, breaking the recital. “What is your purpose in this… rehearsal?”

“I wasn’t aware I needed one,” he told her. “We are both here, waiting out the rain, with little to do but read.” He tapped his cane and stood. Nodding to her, he added, “I wasn’t aware I was bothering you, however, so I will let you be.”

Oh how she wished he would! However, she would be lying to herself if she didn’t admit she was enjoying herself. She could never do this sort of thing with Ron or Harry, and she wasn’t sure Ginny even knew who Shakespeare was. In fact, she was certain no one in the Weasley family did, except perhaps Percy, and that thought was downright droll. She tucked her book into her purse and moved to follow Lucius.

“Mr. Malfoy?” she called as he made to turn the corner.

He paused and looked back at her. That was when she noticed his robes were a light shade of gray with black accents. He had put his gloves back on. “Yes, Miss Granger?”

She hesitated for a split second before answering, searching for the right words. “I wasn’t bothered, in fact, I was quite enjoying myself,” she admitted. “It’s not often that I can speak to someone as knowledgeable as I am, especially with things like Shakespeare.”

“I imagine so,” he agreed, giving her a side glance. “I’m sure the company you keep doesn’t really provide that sort of outlet.”

She frowned. “No, but they have other qualities that I admire more. Intellect isn’t nearly as important as heart and bravery.”

It was his turn to frown as he turned to look at her fully. “Intellect shouldn’t suffer for bravery, my dear, or heart. You can value all three equally.”

“I do,” she argued.

“Without intellect, bravery and heart becomes more foolish than anything,” he added. 

“I have intellect in spades,” she assured him. “I did make the topmost grades in Hogwarts, beating out your own son each year.”

He smirked. “Of that I am very much aware, Miss Granger,” he said as he offered her his elbow. She looked at it dubiously for a moment. Taking a deep breath, she tentatively touched it and he chuckled. “Where is this bravery you were just praising?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes and linked her arm around his. Laughing, he lifted his other arm to adjust their arms and began walking again. “I have plenty of heart and bravery, too,” she pointed out.

He gave her a wink. “That you do,” he agreed. “However, it is good to stimulate your mind with scholarly conversation at times.”

She looked away from him. Being so close to him, she received a healthy dose of his cologne and she felt herself melt. He smelled so good! Her eyes shuttered briefly and she blushed, silently hoping he did not see her reaction.”That’s why I read. One day I hope to have children that share my love for knowledge. For now...”

“Why wait?” he asked, drawing her eyes back to him. “Are you currently courting someone, Miss Granger?”

“No.”

“Have you engaged in... premarital recreations recently?” he questioned, waving his cane idly.

Her eyebrows raised. “That, Mr. Malfoy, is none of your business,” she spat, pulling her hand out of his arm.

“I’m merely asking for conversation’s sake, my dear,” he said apologetically. “If you haven’t engaged in premarital recreations recently and you aren’t currently courting anyone, then it will be some time before you have any children at a proper age in which you can engage intellectually with them. In the meantime, you will be forced to reduce yourself to the intelligence level of toddlers and lesser intelligent specimen.”

“I don’t mind,” she told him, defensively.

“Then why are you here?” he inquired. “If intellect isn’t as important, like you claim, and it can wait until you have children, which will take at least five or six years from now to reach the proper maturity level, then why come here with a book of Shakespeare’s sonnets?”

“I...” she began and stopped. He was right, she hated to admit to herself. She groaned and ran a hand through her hair. “I just needed to get away for a little bit. Ginny bought Harry a new broom for Christmas and those two have been flying about the Burrow like a pair of newlywed turtledoves. They’ve been married for four years now! Wouldn’t it get dull for them after a while?”

He lifted a shoulder and offered his arm to her again, which she accepted. “I don’t know about that, my dear,” he said. “I don’t know them personally, but what I know of them, they do seem like they are perfectly matched.”

She touched her chest dramatically. “Oh, yes,” she mocked, raising the back of her hand to touch her forehead. “’Lord, what fools these mortals be!’ Spare me, please!”

He chuckled and touched the tip of her nose with his forefinger. “But, lo, my darling, ‘The course of true love never did run smooth.’ Soon they will feel the sting of Love’s first betrayal. They all do eventually.”

She looked up at him. “Were you and Narcissa like them at one time?” she asked, curiously. She pinched her lips and looked down. “Sorry. That was rather insensitive of me to ask.”

“Not at all,” he assured her. He tapped his cane against the cobblestone as they walked. “Narcissa and I had been in an arranged marriage, though I won’t lie and say we didn’t fall in love eventually. Love, though, can be a fickle thing if you aren’t perfectly matched. We did well for years, but after this last war, we… fell apart.”

“Is that why you divorced?” she questioned.

He reached away from her a bit and plucked a red rose from a bush and presented it to her. “No,” he told her. “We divorced because she fell into the arms of another man in our marital bed.”

She touched the rose petals and he smiled. “For you,” he offered.

She glanced around. “We can’t take that!” she whispered. “It would be stealing.”

“How in Merlin’s name can I steal from myself?” he asked.

“Pardon?” she squeaked. 

He presented her with the rose again. “Who do you think created this garden and donated it for public use?” he inquired.

She accepted the rose and frowned at him. “I wouldn’t have thought it was you. You keep surprising me, Mr. Malfoy.”

“Then allow me to surprise you once more, my dear,” he said, “and accompany me to supper?”

“You’re asking me on a date?” she asked.

He shrugged. “If you wish to call it that,” he commented. “I am merely enjoying your company and don’t wish this camaraderie to end right away.”

She glanced down at her clothes. “But, I’m not dressed for supper,” she argued, her face dropping when she saw her jeans and muddy shoes. 

“If it pleases you, I can escort you home so you may get dressed,” he offered. “I can then retrieve you in about… two hours, shall we say?”

She glanced up at him. “Where are we going? To eat, I mean.”

He looked thoughtful for a moment, before suggesting, “How do you feel about Italian? Or perhaps French?”

“Italian sounds great,” she told him. She could feel butterflies in the pit of her stomach. Why was she suddenly nervous?

He nodded. “Very well. There’s this little Italian bistro I know that I think you may enjoy,” he offered. 

She gave him a small smile. “Alright. Um… Two hours?” she asked.

Releasing her arm, he turned so they were facing one another and lifted her hand to his lips. “It would be my pleasure, darling,” he said, kissing the back of her hand.

He Apparated them to her house and waited for her to enter before Apparating away. The moment Hermione heard the sound of him leaving, she locked the door and rushed to the fireplace. Throwing some Floo Powder into the flames, she stuck her head inside and called for the Burrow. Molly was busy sweeping the room when Hermione peeked in.

“Molly?” Hermione asked, drawing the older woman’s attention. “Is Ginny here?”

“Of course, my dear,” the kindly lady asked. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” the Muggle-born quickly answered. “I just really need Ginny.”

The matronly woman called for her daughter, who came rushing down when she heard it was Hermione asking for her. “Hermione?” the young ginger asked.

“Ginny, I need your help,” the brunette said. “I… have a date.”

Ginny’s jaw dropped and she quickly stepped through the fireplace to Hermione’s home. Hermione told her all about what had happened in the gardens. By the end of her explanation, Hermione was even more nervous, worried that Ginny would judge. Thankfully, the Muggle-born was wise enough to keep certain tidbits of her conversation with Lucius out of her explanation.

“You have a date with Lucius Malfoy?” the ginger reiterated.

Hermione nodded silently. She licked her lips. “What do I do?”

“Uh… isn’t it obvious?” the younger witch asked. “Merlin’s beard, Hermione, get your scrawny arse in the shower! I’ll find something in your closet that’s perfect.”

“I doubt I have anything that will please him,” the brunette argued.

Ginny pushed her towards the bathroom. “You let me worry about that, you just get in the shower. Now.”

About an hour later, Hermione was standing in front of the mirror, gazing at the dress Ginny had chosen for her to wear. She glanced at Ginny through the mirror. “I didn’t know I owned a dress like this,” she commented, looking at it again and marveling at the elegant way it hung off her shoulders and how the light blue seemed to compliment her complexion and bring out her eyes.

Ginny rolled her eyes as she ran a brush through Hermione’s hair. “That’s because you don’t own a dress like this,” she said as she led the older witch to the vanity. “Here, let’s see if we can tame this beast atop your head.”

Hermione frowned. “Then how…?”

Ginny popped her on the shoulder with the back of the brush. “Has it really been that long since we’ve been in school? Merlin’s beard, Hermione, we’re witches! I transfigured one of your old dresses into this. Speaking of, if you dating Malfoy becomes a thing, we’re going to have to go shopping. I can’t keep transfiguring your clothes for you. Besides, eventually he’ll catch on. He’s not exactly a simpleton.”

Hermione smiled. “Listen to you! Complimenting Lucius Malfoy,” she teased. 

“So? He’s got one good quality over how many bad ones?” Ginny stated as she reached for the bottle of Sleekeazy. 

“Wasn’t it you who commented the other day that Mr. Malfoy was rather handsome?” Hermione mused.

The younger witch poured a generous amount of the potion on top of her friend’s head. “Careful, you,” she warned. “I’m the one helping you. Keep talking and I might add clowns to your clothes and dye your hair emerald green. And I said he would be handsome, if he weren’t such a git.”

Hermione shrugged. “He is handsome, though, isn’t he?” she asked, though she wasn’t really expecting an answer.

“For an older gentleman, sure,” Ginny replied anyway. She glanced at the mirror and saw Hermione’s musing look. She sighed. “Just try to remember that he is much older than you, ok? I mean, he could be your father. He is Draco’s father, or have you forgotten that?”

“I haven’t forgotten,” the Muggle-born said as she reached for a deep red lipstick. “But, like my mum used to always say, age is just a number. I have an aunt who lives in Cambridge who married a man about 20 years her senior and they are still quite happy.”

Ginny’s eyes widened. “You don’t intend to marry him do you?” she asked, more than a little alarmed.

Hermione scoffed. “It’s just a date, Gin, not a marriage proposal. We don’t even known one another well enough to entertain such notions.”

Ginny shrugged. “Yeah. Just keep in mind, Malfoys always have ulterior motives. They don’t just ‘date’. If he asked you out, then he already has you on his list of possible partners. Of course, I doubt he’ll do anything without speaking to your parents first, and we both know that isn’t likely something he will do. Which reminds me,” she said as she finished Hermione’s hair and turned the older witch around in her chair so she could focus on the woman’s makeup. “I know Malfoy has made a lot of changes in his life. I know he donates to a lot of progressive charities as well as to the school and St. Mungo’s. But don’t go getting rose-colored glasses because the Malfoys, all of them, are very charming flirts. At the end of the day, though, he’s still a Malfoy. He isn’t friends with Muggles, nor does he really do any dealings with them. I doubt he’s changed so much that he will happily dine with your parents, or even meet with them.”

“It’s just a dinner, Gin. I really think you’re breathing too much into this,” Hermione said as Ginny finished up on her face. 

There was a knock at the door and the girls looked at one another. Ginny patted her friend’s hand. “Wait here,” she said as Hermione started to get up. “You never answer the door on the first date. Let me do it.”

Before Hermione could protest, the ginger was up and walking to the door. Hermione stood, checked herself one last time in the mirror, and then peeked down the hall.

“Hello, Mr. Malfoy,” Ginny greeted, as she opened the door.

Hermione could see his frame and here his baritone as he replied, “Greetings, Miss Weasley.”

“It’s Mrs. Potter now,” Ginny corrected.

“Of course, my apologies,” he said. “I do have the correct house?”

“Yeah. Hermione should be out here soon. Please, come inside.”

Ginny took a step back and Hermione could see Lucius walk into the house. He was dressed in fine tailored dark robes and had his hair pulled back. In one hand, he held a large bouquet of flowers. Blushing, Hermione took a step back and closed her eyes, trying to calm her nerves. He wasn’t the first person she had ever dated, but she hadn’t felt this nervous since the Yule Ball in her fourth year.

She heard the heels of Ginny’s shoes clicking as she ran down the hallway to Hermione’s room. She looked sternly at the older witch. “What are you doing?!” she hissed. 

Hermione shook her head as she went to her closet and pulled out a pair of heels to wear. “I don’t know, Gin,” she admitted softly. “I don’t know why I feel so anxious. And I feel like I have butterflies in my stomach.”

Ginny shook her head. “That’s normal, especially if you really like the bloke,” she said, brushing some imaginary dust off of Hermione’s shoulder. She pulled the older witch into a hug. “Just go and have a good time,” she whispered. “I’ll be right here for you if you need me, ok?” She took a step back and looked at her friend. “Well, maybe not right here, but I am just a grate away.”

Hermione gave a small giggle and nodded. Taking another breath, she pushed her shoulders back and stepped out into the hall. As she walked into the lounge, she saw the wizard gazing at the photos on her mantel. He leaned against his cane and held the flowers against his chest. He turned to her when he heard her enter,

His eyes flitting up and down her figure and his face broke out into a soft smile. He held out the flowers to her. “Beautiful flowers for a beautiful lady,” he offered, his eyes twinkling.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but she could feel her cheeks warm up with the compliment. “Do you always flatter the girls you date, Mr. Malfoy, or is this a new approach?” she asked as she approached him and accepted the flowers.

His brows knitted together briefly. “I don’t see a girl before me, love, but a beautiful young woman. And, if you don’t mind, it’s Lucius,” he said as he took her hand and kissed the back of it.

Now Hermione knew she was blushing, especially when she saw the amused expression on his face. She wrinkled her nose at him. “Don’t laugh at me,” she gently stated. 

“Never,” he told her and she could hear the promise in his voice. He waved at the door. “Shall we?”

She smiled. “Yes,” she said as she took a step forward. She saw the flowers in her hand. “Wait. Let me put these in a vase first.”

As she turned, Ginny hurried to her and took the flowers, mostly red roses, from her. “I will take care of these,” she promised. “Go, and have fun.” She looked at Lucius. “I suppose I don’t have to ask you, but you will treat her respectfully, right, Mr. Malfoy?”

He frowned. “Anything less would be undignified, Mrs. Potter,” he said.

The ginger seemed content with that answer and stepped back. Hermione glanced up at the man and smiled. “Alright, then, Ready?”

He nodded as he opened the front door and held it for her. As he followed her out, they heard Ginny shout from the closing door. “Mind, you two behave. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she commented.

Lucius pressed his lips together as he looked at the closed door. “How old does she think we are?” he mused.

Hermione giggled. “Oh, she’s just being Ginny,” she said jovially. “Truth be told, there is very little she wouldn’t do, so her comment is a bit rhetorical.”

He gave a thoughtful nod and glanced at her. Shaking the thoughts off, he held his hand out to her. When she gently took it, he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. “Perhaps on the way back, we will take a carriage,” he suggested.

Hermione smirked. “Are you sure you won’t tire of me by then?” she asked.

“You don’t think very highly of yourself, do you, Miss Granger?” he observed.

“Hermione,” she stated. “If I’m to call you by your given name, I think the reverse is only proper.”

A soft smile played on his lips. “Hermione,” he said, trying the name on his tongue. Hermione could feel the word slither to the pits of her stomach and further down. He made it sound so sinful! 

As they reached the Apparation point, he turned to her. “Hold on tight, darling,” he instructed.

She tightened her grip on his arm and in moments, they were gone.

The “bistro”… well, that was a generous word, in Hermione’s mind. The restaurant Lucius had taken her to was so much more than a small, Italian restaurant. The place was huge and just so elegant! She was almost afraid to touch anything, for there wasn’t a thing within the building that did not look delicate and expensive. When she excused herself to the ladies’ room, she was surprised to find maids within the restroom waiting with fresh, warm cloth towels.

If Hermione had been nervous getting ready at home, she was even more nervous now. She had been in fancy restaurants before, but nothing ever this fancy. There was even an usher at the restroom door awaiting to escort her back to her table!

As she approached the table, Lucius stood and waited as the usher pulled the chair out for Hermione. She didn’t know if she would ever stop blushing as she sat down. The usher pushed her seat in gently and Lucius sat back down as well.

The waiter came to their table and showed them a bottle of wine. Hermione’s eyes widened as he began speaking in Italian. Lucius gave the man a soft smile and replied, “Sì, naturalmente.”

Hermione was astounded as Lucius raised his glass up and the waiter poured a bit of the wine into it. She watched as the wizard sniffed the wine, swirled it, and tasted it. He looked thoughtful for a moment before finally nodding his head. “Penso che piacerà a questo. Puoi anche lasciare la bottiglia,” Lucius said to the waiter.

“Si signore. E sei pronto per ordinare?” the waiter asked.

Lucius looked at Hermione. His brow crinkled in amusement at her expression. “Have you decided what it is you desire, darling?” he asked.

“Um,” she said hestiantly as she looked down at her menu. She had been to several Italian restaurants before, in fact, she loved Italian food, but she had never heard of many of these dishes. Biting her lip, she finally decided on one dish that looked safe enough to try. “Perhaps the chicken tetrazzini?” she requested. 

Lucius smiled and looked up at the waiter. “I’ll have the same,” he said. He glanced at the young witch. “Do you like peppers, darling?”

Her eyes lit up. “I do, actually,” she responded. 

He nodded and glanced up at the waitor. “Per il nostro aperitivo, avremo alcuni imbottiti Peperoni,” he said.

“Si, signore,” the waiter replied before saying in a thick Italian accent, “I will bring these out to you as quickly as possible.” 

Lucius smiled. “Well, you don’t have to be too quick, lad,” he commented. “Vorrei passare un po 'di tempo con la signora,” he added with a wink at Hermione.

The waitor’s smile broadened, “Naturalmente, signore.”

As the waiter took their menus and departed, Hermione looked at Lucius. “I didn’t know you spoke Italian,” she commented.

He raised an eyebrow as he picked up his glass of wine. “There is much you don’t know about me, darling,” he admitted. “I do hope to rectify that with time. I am also fluent in French, Spanish, Norweigen, German, and Greek.”

“I know French and Finnish,” she told him. “My parents used to take me skiing when I was younger and we loved going to Paris.”

“Perhaps one day, we could go there as well,” he suggested. “I haven’t been to Paris in ages.”

“Nor I,” she replied. She bit her lip. “Though, I do think we should get through this meal before we make any future plans.”

He quirked a brow. “Do you tire of me already, love?” he asked.

“No, of course not,” she assured him. “I only meant that I might bore you before the end of this evening. I would hate to get my hopes up only to have them dashed.”

He gazed at her eyes. “I doubt you will ever bore me. Thus far, I am already intrigued by you. Your thrust for knowledge and your ambition to acquire said knowledge are very distinct Slytherin traits. Nevermind your passion for all living things and equality. I do keep a close eye on the different forms of news and have been following your career. You are quite the lioness. You are but, what, twenty-five? And you’ve already enacted laws to change the way wizards and witches treat the lesser beings among us.”

“It helps when you have proper funding,” she commented as she picked up her own glass of wine. As the thought crossed her mind, she looked at him. “In fact, we’ve had more funding in the past year than I’ve ever seen. You wouldn’t happen to be responsible for that, would you?”

As the stuffed peppers were set in between them, he gave her a soft smile. “Would you be disappointed if I had?” he inquired as he pushed a pepper onto his plate.

“No,” she replied. “Though, I can’t rightly imagine why. Forgive me, Lucius, but you’re not exactly the most generous of people.”

“And you would be correct,” he told her as he cut into the pepper. “However, I’ve been motivated into action towards causes I hadn’t really considered before.”

Hermione placed a pepper onto her own plate and looked at him. “Why the sudden change of heart?” she questioned.

His stormy gray eyes bore into hers as he said, quite bluntly, “You.”

She almost choked on a piece of pepper and quickly grabbed her glass of water to help it go down. Once she felt safe enough to speak, she looked at him. “Me? I don’t understand.”

He watched her, concern flitting over his face when she had grabbed the water. “I was always taught that when a wizard is interested in a particular witch, then her passions should become his. Now, I may have been arranged to marry Narcissa, and we were married for about twenty years, but after we divorced, I found myself being pulled into another direction. I no longer have my old man to dictate whom I may or may not show interest in, nor, in the current political climate, do I feel a need to produce a pureblood heir.”

“You already have a pureblood heir,” she said, pointing her fork at him.

“Indeed,” he agreed. “However, for once in my life, I actually feel free to choose, and the more I learn of you, the more I am drawn to you. I’ve even gone so far as to free my house elves and offer them proper employment complete with benefits and decent wages. Of course, they refuse to take more than a few Sickles at most, and they hate the idea of taking breaks or even, Merlin forbid, vacations, but it’s a start.”

She just stared at him in shock. “I...Frankly, Lucius, I don’t know what to say,” she stated, flabbergasted by what he was telling her.

“You needn’t say anything,” he informed her. “Though, I do hope you don’t see me as the monster you once thought I was.”

She shook her head. “After the war, I stopped seeing you as a monster,” she admitted softly. “You were broken, downtrodden, but you weren’t a monster. Just a man who had got lost down the wrong path in life. At one time… maybe. But Voldemort had done something to you. I don’t know what it was, but your actions after the war told me that it was something that had caused a change in your life. When I read about your divorce, it nearly broke my heart. I didn’t know until today why you had parted ways, but that knowledge only heightens my belief that you did not deserve the hand you had been dealt.”

He smiled softly, and reached across the table to touch her hand. “I appreciate the sentiment,” he told her. “But the sympathy is unnecessary, love. I believe I received exactly what I had deserved. I wasn’t the only one who had suffered those last years with the Dark Lord living in my home. As a man, I never should have allowed my family to go through the terrors they had. Though he doesn’t say it, I fear even to this day Draco resents me. And I don’t blame him.”

“Yes, well, I suppose we all have our demons,” Hermione commented as she looked up.

The server returned with a tray of food. He cleared the appetizers and replaced them with the entree. “C'è qualcos'altro che ti serve, signor Malfoy?” he asked, looking to the blond wizard.

Lucius glanced at Hermione. “is there anything you need?” he inquired. When she shook her head, he looked back at the waitor. “Questo è tutto per ora. Grazie.”

“Si, signore,” the waitor replied with a small bow. He looked at Hermione and said, “Enjoy your meal, signorina.”

She smiled at him and thanked him. Once he was gone, she looked down at her plate. It looked delicious, and they both began to eat.

After a while, as Lucius watched Hermione polish off the last of her pasta, he tilted his head curiously. “What did you mean earlier?” he asked. “When you claimed that we all have our demons?”

Hermione took a sip of her wine and closed her eyes. “Just what I said,” she stated as she met his eyes. “We all have things we’ve done in our past that we aren’t particularly proud of, some which, even to this day provide us with heartache.”

“I can’t imagine that statement would apply to you, darling,” he said.

His eyes were much kinder than they had been in the past and she found herself trusting him more, though she realized it could be a mistake. He was a Slytherin, after all. But Hogwarts was a long time ago.

She sighed as her eyes fell back onto her plate. “Before Harry, Ron, and I decided to go on our journey to hunt the horcruxes, the summer after our sixth year before Harry turned seventeen, I had decided to Obliviate my parents and send them to Australia. It was,” she gave him a pained look, “the only way I could think of to keep them safe. Better for them not to remember me at all than for them to have those memories and be in harm’s way. I knew Voldemort would try to go after my parents.”

“I remember when Avery and Yaxley returned from that assignment,” he told her. “The Dark Lord had been furious that they had failed.”

Hermione nodded. “After the war, Ron and I took a trip to Australia and I restored their memories. I explained to them why I had done what I did. Though they told me, and even tell me to this day, that they have forgiven me, I can still see it in their eyes sometimes. Their trust in me is broken. Like you with Draco, there are times when I can see that they resent me for the decision I had made. My father claimed they would have been better if I hadn’t taken their memories away and simply told them what I wanted.” She shook her head. “Sometimes, I wish they could see this world for what it really is, and understand why I had done what I did.”

“In time, I’m sure they will,” he told her. “Or, at the very least, they will come to trust you again. What you did saved their lives, because I can assure you, if Avery and Yaxley had found them, they would be either driven insane, dead, or both.”

She nodded sadly, but did not say anything. “Would you be tempted in some dessert, or shall we call it a night?” he asked her.

“Are you eager to be rid of me, Lucius?” she asked, looking up at him.

“Not at all,” he assured her. “However, it is getting late and I’m sure the staff would like to clean up.”

She looked around them and realized that pretty much all the patrons were gone. There was still a table or two, excluding themselves. “I hadn’t even realized how late it was,” she mused.

“It has been quite an enjoyable evening. Perhaps a stroll along the Thames is in order?” he suggested.

“That sounds lovely,” she stated.

~*~

They had walked along the Thames for hours. During that time, they spoke of many things, shared interest, politics, work, hobbies… They even discussed their future endeavors, something Lucius had seemed to be particularly interested in.

“I hated growing up an only child,” Hermione confessed. “I mean, after I got into Hogwarts, I had met Harry and Ron and we did end up becoming best friends. And Ginny is like a sister I’ve never had. But the first eleven years of my life were rather lonely.”

“Did you not go to a primary school?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I did, but I was always the outcast,” she admitted. “I liked reading and strange things always happened around me. Later I learned those strange things were magic, naturally, but as a nine-year-old, it was a little disheartening. Some of the students actually feared me and considered me weird or jinxed.”

“Sounds like a lonely existance,” he muttered.

She hummed as she leaned against the railing and gazed out into the waters. “Then, on my eleventh birthday, McGonagall came to my home and explained to my parents and me why I was able to do the things I did. She also told us about Diagon Alley and explained how Wizarding money worked. You wouldn’t believe the relief I felt.” She glanced at him. “I wasn’t crazy, strange, or weird. McGonagall was even kind enough to take us shopping and I was able to buy my wand.”

He smiled at her. “That must have been exciting for you,” he surmised.

She looked at him curiously. “Was it for you?” she asked. “When you recieved your wand for the first time?”

He frowned as he thought about it for a moment. “There was a sense of exhilaration, I will admit. Of course, it was only expected, as I was a pureblood,” he said. He glanced at her and gave her an apologetic smile. “When you are born into a world where you are meant to be a member of, you tend to take certain things for granted. For me, I had felt a sense of entitlement the first time I had walked into Ollivander’s. If I remember correctly, I was mostly bored more than anything. I think my parents were just glad I wasn’t a Squib, but then, I had shown my magical abilities at a rather early age, much sooner than even Draco had.”

“Squibs aren’t really common in the Wizarding World, though, are they?”

He gave a small shrug of his shoulders. “Not as much as most wizards think, but moreso than we would desire,” he told her. At her confused look, he glanced at her. “Only a few people know this, but I do have a younger sister.”

Her eyes widened at the revelation. “What?”

He nodded as he joined her on the railing. Leaning against the bars. “Her name is Helen, and I do believe she is married now. Couldn’t tell you to whom she married,” he said.

She looked at him in amazement. “Do you even talk to her?” she asked.

He shook his head. “When she was old enough to go into a secondary school, my father had sent her to a Muggle boarding school. I was told it was the best in the nation, though I wouldn’t know,” he admitted. “I believe my parents had gone to her graduation, and my father had even set her up with a house and a small bank account in… I think it was Surrey?” He shrugged. “I hadn’t spoken to her after she left for the Muggle school. I believe my mother had kept in touch with her, but I was so entrenched with the Dark Lord, I didn’t really care much.”

“But now?” she pressed. “If you were to find Helen, that is? Have you tried reaching out to her?”

He glanced at her. “What would I say, exactly? Once Father had set her up, all other ties were severed. She was burned from our family tree, and forgotten. Even when I was in Hogwarts, she was never mentioned. We had both be privately tutored during our primary years, so only the closest of friends had known of her.”

“But she’s your sister, Lucius,” Hermione stressed. “I would have loved to have a sister, even if she were a Muggle.”

He gave her a small smile and brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers. “Perhaps you could help me with that,” he suggested. “If you have such time, of course.”

She shrugged. “Sure. I mean, how many Malfoys could possibly exist in the Muggle world? It’s not exactly a common last name.”

“I doubt she goes by the name Malfoy anymore, though,” he pointed out.

“Wedding registries, then. Or, if the name had been changed for the purposes of enrolling her in a Muggle school, perhaps your father has some sort of documentation somewhere about it,” she suggested. 

As she continued rattling off suggestions and mapping out a plan on finding his sister, Lucius observed her. She seemed even more beautiful to him. Little wisps of hair had fallen out of her otherwise immaculate hairdo and he suddenly longed to undo it entirely, just to watch the wild curls fall around her head and bounce upon her shoulders. He imagined digging a hand into those curls and burying his face into them. The imagery had gone straight to his loins and he felt an immense desire to adjust himself. He turned to face the river, effectively hiding what would be embarrassing. 

He gave Hermione a side glance. 

“I can start looking into it tomorrow,” she told him. “I hope you don’t mind?”

Don’t mind what? He wanted to ask. But, if he did so, she would know that he hadn’t been paying attention. He knew they had been talking of his wayward sister, but, “I don’t see why I would,” he said, carefully.

She looked at him in surprise. “Seriously? You would give me that sort of access?” she asked.

Access? Access to what? He shrugged. “I have every intention of seeing more of you, Hermione,” he admitted. “If granting you access gains me my desires, then why not?”

She smiled. God, she had a beautiful smile. He immediately began thinking of ways he could see more of it. He offered her his hand. When she took it, he quickly Apparated them to a point close to her home. She glanced around for a moment, a bit surprised.

“The sooner this night ends, the sooner I can see you again,” he explained to her.

She laughed and patted him on the arm. “Ever the charmer, aren’t you, Lucius?”

“Of course, darling,” he agreed as he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it.

They spoke of more things as he led her back to her house. As they reached the door, he stopped and looked at the door.

“You do still speak to your parents?” he commented, remembering their conversation from earlier.

She nodded. “I do, yes,” she answered as she looked at him in confusion. “Why?”

He looked at her and lifted a brow. “I wish to speak with your father,” he admitted rather bluntly. “If we’re to continue this courtship, then I should probably garner your father’s favor, should I not?”

She just stared at him. “Courtship? Are we courting, Lucius?” she asked, the butterflies returning to her stomach with force.

He gazed down at her and cupped her cheek. “I would like to, wouldn’t you?” he countered.

She felt her heartbeat quicken in her chest and willed that he wouldn’t hear it. She licked her lips. “I… yes,” she replied, looking down at his chest. “I think I would like that very much.”

“Hermione,” he purred. God, why did he make her name sound like sex every time he said it? “May I have your permission to kiss you?”

She looked up at him and met his eyes. “I wasn’t aware you needed permission for anything,” she told him. “But, if it pleases you, then...”

She never got to finish her sentence as his lips touched hers. He kissed her tenderly, just pressing his lips against hers. He opened his mouth a little and she followed his lead. As they stood upon her doorstep kissing, her mind became blank. Her eyes closed and she felt his tongue brush along her bottom lip. 

He ended the kiss and pulled away, looking down at her. “It seems my only love has sprung from my only hate,” he commented.

She frowned and rolled her eyes as she caught onto what he was saying. “What is love?” she asked. “Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs; Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; Being vexed, a sea nourished with loving tears.”

His smile broadened as he tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “A smoke made out of lovers' sighs. When the smoke clears, love is a fire burning in your lover’s eyes. If you frustrate love, you get an ocean made out of lovers' tears. What else is love? It’s a wise form of madness. It’s a sweet lozenge that you choke on,” he told her.

“If we keep this up, I will never get inside so I can rest,” she pointed out. “We could always continue quoting Shakespeare tomorrow.”

“Parting is such sweet sorrow that I shall say goodnight till it be morrow,” he said, still gazing into her eyes.

“Isn’t that supposed to be my line?” she asked.

He chuckled as he took a step back. Lifting her hand to his lips, he kissed the back of it. As he released her hand, he turned on the spot and disappeared. Hermione blinked for a few moments before opening her door and closing it behind her. Her mind and heart reeled. What the hell just happened?

* * *

Author’s Notes: The first Shakespearean quote is from Sonnet 50. The bulk of the quotes are from Midsummer Night’s Dream. And the last quote is from Romeo and Juliet

Here are the translations to the Italian phrases:

Sì, naturalmente “Yes, of course.”

Penso che piacerà a questo. Puoi anche lasciare la bottiglia “I think she will like this. You can even leave the bottle.”

Si signore. E sei pronto per ordinare “Yes, sir. And you’re ready to order?”

Per il nostro aperitivo, avremo alcuni imbottiti Peperoni “For our appetizer, we’ll have stuffed peppers.”

Vorrei passare un po 'di tempo con la signora “I would like to spend some time with the lady.”

C'è qualcos'altro che ti serve, signor Malfoy “Is there something else you need, Mr. Malfoy?”

Questo è tutto per ora. Grazie “That’s all for now. Thank you.”


End file.
